I may take off from doing anything with ANSTEORRA RANGERS today. I need to think about how to resolve the conflict. SWAMP PATROL, however, just needs fleshing out. …And maybe some rewrites.
The two followed the spoor of the Tyrant Bee through the spawn, both by scent and the occasional floating bee husk left behind by the Dire Critter. They were common enough that Tim figured that the Tyrant Bee was about to go into molt. That wasn’t exactly the best news.
“Though it ain’t the worst news either,” he said to Nora. “Before it molts it’s gonna go hibernate for a while, digest the rest of the bees it’s got tethered, then go track down another hive to eat. As long as we don’t stumble over it, it won’t wake up easy.”
“So what’s the bad news?” asked Nora. “It wakes up grumpy?”
“Grumpier. Tyrant Bees are mean.”
Nora laughed at that. “You call everything you’ve shown me in this swamp ‘mean,’ Ranger-man. When do I start seeing the nice critters?”
“Well, most of the trees are all right,” mused Tim after a minute. “Just don’t eat any of the ones with blue fruit.”
“Poison?”
“Nah, they just taste like crap. For real.” Tim shook his head. “The ecology of the swamp’s real strange, Recruit. You ain’t gonna ever really know how it all works, either. Best you’re gonna manage is getting used to it.”